


desperate

by SiderumInCaelo



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Desperation, Embarrassment, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Omorashi, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 16:37:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14085114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiderumInCaelo/pseuds/SiderumInCaelo
Summary: Percival and Newt get captured while on a routine mission.  Which would be okay, except that Percival really has to pee.For a Kink Meme prompt.





	desperate

**Author's Note:**

> For this Kink Meme prompt: https://fantasticbeasts-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1184.html?thread=1765024#cmt1765024 
> 
> I really thought about anoning for this, but at the end of the day if I write 1.5k words I want credit for it (and lbr, it's only barely weirder than some other things I've posted). So if you know who I am, just pretend you didn't see this, okay?

It was _supposed_ to be a routine operation. Go in, do some recon, get out, and be back in time for lunch. That’s why it was just him and Newt Scamander, who’s currently working as a consultant for MACUSA.

But their suspects had returned far earlier than they’d expected and caught them, and he and Scamander, grossly outnumbered, had been tied up in one of the basement rooms.

It could have been worse, Percival knew. MACUSA would realize something had gone wrong sooner rather than later, and knew where to look. And their captors at least seemed smart enough to not want to add “double homicide” or even “battery and assault” to their charges, so in all likelihood both he and Newt would come out of this completely unscathed.

But it was hard to take comfort in any of that, because all Percival could think about was the last time he’d been confined in a dark room, unable to move. It was one thing to know, rationally, that this was different, that he wasn’t going to be here for months and months, that people _knew_ he was missing this time, and quite another to truly believe it.

It was helpful in a lot of ways that Scamander was there, since his presence was a very obvious reminded that this wasn’t like the last time he’d been kidnapped. But Percival felt like he’d give anything to be in this room alone, for one reason.

He _really_ had to pee.

He’d had his usual cup of coffee in the morning, plus another while filling out tedious paperwork, and he hadn’t thought to use the restroom before leaving with Scamander, since they shouldn't have been gone long. But then this had happened, and all the liquids and caffeine were working their way through his system, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

He can’t even hold himself, because he and Newt have been restrained back-to-back, with their wrists bound between them, and he can’t cross his legs either, because his ankles are tied to the chair legs. And he’s trying not to fidget, because Scamander will be bound to feel it if he does, and will doubtlessly ask what’s wrong.

He wants to hope that they’ll be rescued before he loses control, but he knows that’s vanishingly unlikely. Neither he nor Scamander have anything else scheduled for another hour, and even then, once people realize they’re not back, it’ll take a while to confirm that they’re missing and to mount a rescue team, and in the meantime Percival can feel his already uncomfortable bladder growing ever fuller. It is a biological impossibility to wait another hour-plus for relief, and he knows it.

Still, he keeps holding, doing his best to act like nothing is wrong, because there’s no other option. At least, not one he can accept.

But that gets harder and harder to do, especially without fidgeting, as time goes on, and eventually he can’t hold himself still anymore. He tries to keep it subtle, just squeezing his thighs together and slightly adjusting the angle of his torso, but he’s sure Scamander must notice anyway, what with how closely they’re tied up.

It’s not until a particularly sharp spasm makes Percival jerk suddenly that Scamander says anything, though.

“Are you all right, Graves?” he asks mildly.

“Fine,” Percival says, trying not to sound as tense as he feels.

Scamander drops it, but after several long minutes, during which Percival can’t stop himself from continuing to squirm, he speaks again.

“If something’s wrong you should really tell me what it is. I know I can’t do much like this, but it’ll let me be more help once we get out of here,” Newt says, still sounding calm. The annoying part is that he’s right, and Percival knows it.

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s just – I have to use the bathroom, all right?” he huffs out, sharper than he intends.

“Oh.” A pause, and then, “Rather badly, I take it?” Newt asks.

“Yes,” Percival admits, gritting his teeth.

Scamander falls silent after that, but surely he’s doing the same internal math Percival already has – that it’ll be a while until anyone from MACUSA can be expected to get them out, and if Percival’s already progressed to squirming...

Percival's rapidly diminishing dignity still demands that he not be too obvious in his attempts to control his bladder, but it’s hard now that Scamander knows about his predicament, and with the pressure feeling like it’s increasing every second.

Scamander stays quiet as Percival’s shifting becomes more and more frequent, until he can’t sit still for more than a second at a time. Percival isn’t sure if it’s out of awkwardness or a sense of tact, but either way he’s grateful for it.

He knows he’s only putting off the inevitable, but somehow it still takes him by surprise when a spasm hits and he loses control, just for a fraction of a second, causing him to spurt into his pants. The shock forces a gasp out of him, and he freezes. He manages to cut himself off, and he can’t see a wet spot from above, but the fabric against his skin feels warm and damp and it’s _humiliating_.

“Graves?” Scamander asks, a hint of worry in his voice.

“I –” he can’t say what happened; the embarrassment would kill him. “I can’t – I’m not going to make it until we get out of here,” he admits, wishing he could make his voice sound normal and fuck fuck _fuck_ he’s fucking tearing up and Percival can’t remember the last time he’s wanted the earth to swallow him this badly. 

“It’s all right,” Scamander says. 

“How – how could it possibly be all right; I am about to fucking piss myself in front of you,” Percival says, hoping against hope that he didn’t sound as hysterical as he feels. He feels another spurt come out and fuck it he has to furiously blink away tears again.

“It is all right,” Scamander repeats, sounding insistently calm. “This could have happened to anyone in this situation – actually, it could still happen to me, if we’re in here long enough – but we’re going to get out of here, and then we can pretend this never happened.”

“Whoever lets us out of here is going to notice,” Percival points out.

“If they say anything I’ll set the Swooping Evil on them,” Scamander says, and it’s so matter-of-fact that Percival has to smile. “Really, Graves, it’ll be all right.”

“You should call me Percival,” he says suddenly. “There’s not much good in standing on ceremony at this point.”

“Only if you call me Newt." 

It would almost be a sweet moment, but then Percival leaks again, and it takes him longer this time to stop it. It feels like he’s sitting in a puddle, and, even worse, it made a hissing noise and if he could hear it, then Scamander – Newt, since they’re on a first-name-basis now – must have heard it too.

“It’s fine,” Newt says softly, and twists his wrist so he can entwine his fingers with Percival’s. Percival distractedly thinks that in other circumstances it’d be strange, but right now he appreciates the gesture. “You should go before you hurt yourself.” 

“I don’t want to,” Percival says stubbornly. He knows it sounds childish, but it’s true. He doesn’t want to.

“I know,” Newt says simply, but doesn’t let go of his hand.

But want to or not, he knows it’s going to happen soon. Even with the leaks the pressure _hurts_ , and his thighs are getting sore from being clamped together for so long. He fidgets a bit more, delaying the inevitable, but it doesn’t take long until he’s going again. He moves his hands, and, by extension, Newt’s, slightly up and to the side so they don’t get wet, but this time he doesn’t make any attempt to stop the stream of liquid leaving his body. It quickly spills over the seat of the chair, pattering onto the concrete floor, and soaks into the fabric of his pants - all of the back, from the seat all the way down to his ankles, as well as creeping up the outsides of his thighs and the front of his crotch.

Even his _shoes_ get wet.

Somehow the worst part is that, underneath the embarrassment and discomfort of sitting in wet, rapidly cooling pants, the relief feels _good_. He doesn’t want to admit, even to himself, that there’s any upside to this.

“Are you all right?” Newt asks, then, before Percival can figure out an answer, continues with, “Sorry, I guess that’s a silly question.”

“It’s not very comfortable, but I think I’ll live,” Percival answers wryly, trying to sound less bothered by the situation than he is.

“I wish I could do something to help,” Newt says.

“You have helped,” Percival insists. “This – it’s horribly embarrassing, and once we get out of here I am holding you to your promise of pretending this never happened, but – I’m glad you’re here,” he admits.

Then he realizes what he said. “I mean, not that I’m glad you were also captured, I just meant –”

“I know what you meant,” Newt interrupts gently. “And if I helped, then I’m glad I was here, too.”


End file.
